


Just His Luck

by psiphifan



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Auror Draco Malfoy, Break Up, Canon Divergence - Post-Hogwarts, Cheating, Cunnilingus, F/M, Felix Felicis, Harry Potter Epilogue What Epilogue | EWE, Legilimency, Legilimens, Lemon, Minor Hermione Granger/Ron Weasley, One Shot, Out of Character Hermione Granger, Pining Draco Malfoy, Porn With Plot, Post-Hogwarts, Post-War, Revenge Sex, Ron Weasley Bashing, Smut, Stalking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-25
Updated: 2018-07-25
Packaged: 2019-06-16 06:50:02
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,349
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15431379
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/psiphifan/pseuds/psiphifan
Summary: Hermione and Ron are on the rocks. Draco Malfoy is (kind of) stalking her and reading her mind. What happens when she catches Ron cheating and walks right into Draco? It might be just his luck!





	Just His Luck

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first post! Be gentle, please. If you don't like smut, please don't read/review - you've been warned! I don't have a beta, but any thoughts/corrections are appreciated. Thanks so much for reading. Please review if you feel compelled to do so!
> 
> I may be convinced to make this into a multi-chapter story, but I'm leaving it where it ends right now. :)

Most people thought Hermione Granger and Ron Weasley would end up together. Just because they’d kissed and fell in love during the war didn’t mean that they were destined. They had been terrified; they could have died without knowing love. They’d sought comfort from the closest person, from a friend. A little over a year after the war ended, Hermione and Ron had their final fight -- final battle, really.

“Why don’t you go sleep with one of your quidditch groupies? They’re all painted and made up for you every game.” She folded her arms in front of her chest, keeping them from hexing Ron to look like a pig.

“Yeah? Maybe I will, at least they care enough to try to impress me!”

“Impress you, Ronald?!! I’ll impress you--” She could barely see him through her angry tears as she pointed her wand at him.

“‘Mione!” She blinked away the tears to see his nose had transfigured into a pig’s snout. Her lips quivered into a watery smirk as she stomped out of the apartment Ron shared with Harry.

How dare he! Hermione thought. He’d known since she was eleven years old that she never would or could be that kind of girl. She cared more about her opinions and intellect being prominent rather than her eyelashes, lips, or bum.

Once outside, she apparated to the front door of her favorite magical bookstore where one of the clerks, a squib, flirted with her on a weekly basis. Hermione would never encourage it, since he was at least ten years her senior and smelled like a hippogriff. Despite this, she wanted to be wanted. The clerk didn’t care that she looked a little frumpy or that her hair was a little frizzy from time to time. More than she could say about someone who was supposed to love her.

Hermione grabbed a leather bound tome off the shelf and sat in a chair near the register, pretending to read. She hoped it wasn’t obvious that she was just there for the clerk who must have been somewhere in the storage room.

Actually starting to read the book, Hermione became distracted on the details of Legilimency, which she hadn’t studied too extensively. That’s when she felt it. Like a tug on her shirt but a tug in her mind, somewhere deep in her skull.

She looked around and the pulling sensation went away. Why hadn’t the clerk returned? Trying to seem busy, she kept reading. The tugging came back.

“You don’t really want him,” a deep voice drawled from behind her. In the shadows of the bookshelves, Draco Malfoy was lurking.

“Malfoy?” she sputtered and stood up. “What are you talking about?”

“The clerk. You don’t actually want him.” Malfoy had come to smirk at her in a bookstore after fighting against one another in a war?

“How did you…?” Then she remembered the tugging at the seams of her mind. “You filthy ferret! You used Legilimens to read my mind!” Hermione drew her wand.

Malfoy shrugged. “It’s a shame you never learned Occlumens. At least Potter tried.”

“Bugger off, Malfoy.” Hermione said as she slammed the book back into its proper place on the shelf. “And stop doing that!”

“You want to get back at the Weasel, eh pet?” Malfoy said leaning against the bookshelf next to her.

“What’s it to you, Malfoy?” Hermione sighed.

“You don’t want a handsome man to know your every desire unlike your dearest Ronald? Like how you wished he’d go down on you instead of rutting you like the pig he is?” Malfoy had moved closer as Hermione froze.

“Shut up! I’m leaving,” she said unconvincingly and didn’t move.

“You’re telling me you wouldn’t want to get back at him with me, Draco Malfoy, his ultimate enemy?” He smirked, standing up straight and looming over her.

“I don’t sleep with stuck-up blood purists and former Death Eaters, especially you, Malfoy.” She’d regained some of her vigor. He picked lint off his well-cut black suit, looking bored.

“Not even if said I’d eat you out and make you cum until you forgot all about that ginger-haired weasel?” Draco said examining his nails.

“Fuck. Off. Malfoy.” She stomped away and apparated back to Ron’s flat. Hermione was ashamed that she’d been so hasty to ruin things with Ron, but also ashamed that her panties were damp from what Malfoy had said to her.

“Ron?” she called when she walked into the front door. Then she saw red. Hermione saw Ron’s red hair shoved between that blonde groupie’s legs draped over the kitchen table. He toppled over onto the floor from seeing her enter. “You cheating bastard! Now we’re definitely over!”

Slamming the door, she ran out of the apartment, angry tears staining her cheeks. Hermione almost ran into a tall figure at the bottom of the steps. She looked up to apologize and saw the smirk.

“Well, Granger?” She bit her lip and then grabbed his arm, walked a couple paces and disapparated with him.

“Merlin’s beard! You could at least warn me,” Malfoy complained as they landed at the doorstep of his family’s manor.

Hermione rounded on him, looking more threatening than he’d ever seen her. “You better say your mother isn’t home, Malfoy.”

“She’s not, she-she’s at the spa all weekend.” It took him a brief second to realize what this meant. A Cheshire cat-like grin spread across his face. Impatient, Hermione yanked his tie to bring his lips closer to hers and captured them in a greedy kiss, worrying his lips with her front teeth.

Malfoy couldn’t help but moan into her furious kissing attack. It turned him on more that she was being rough with him. He liked his Granger fiery and fierce. He pressed her into the front door, lifting her legs to wrap around his waist.

“Malfoy,” she growled as he ran his lips down the sensitive vein her neck and back up to trace her ear with his tongue. “Open the door unless you’d like to fuck me in full view of your neighbors.”

“Don’t tempt me, Granger,” he panted and opened the door.

She’d somehow managed to undo his belt while she was pawing at him. His slacks and belt dropped to the marble floor with a clank. “Fuck,” he muttered into her ear as her core came in barely clothed contact with his overexcited cock.

“Malfoy….” she moaned. “Please….” Hermione nipped at his jaw. He looked over her shoulder to the winding staircase and long hallway to his bedroom.

“Hang on, love.” Malfoy apparated them to his bedroom, right in front of his four poster bed. Setting her ass down at the end of the bed, he stripped off Hermione’s thong as she lowered his briefs. As he teased her entrance with the red bulging head of his cock, she tugged at his shirt.

“Off!” Hermione demanded. Malfoy smirked as he shucked the garment rather slowly as her eyes bored into his.

“Don’t worry, pet, I’ll get you off,” he said. His molten metal eyes rolled back. “Fuck, you’re so wet for me, Granger…”

Before he could thrust inside of her, Hermione scooted back onto the lush bed. In his naked glory, his manhood stood at attention against his chiseled alabaster abdominals. Malfoy stared at her lounging a few feet away from him, out of reach.

“What’s the matter, Malfoy? I thought you could read my mind,” Hermione taunted him with her legs spread, breasts bared and unashamed.

Malfoy’s lips curled. “Ah yes, I believe I got a bit carried away.” She couldn’t help but blush a little. Part of her couldn’t believe she was about to sleep with Draco Malfoy -- partly because of their past and partly because she couldn’t believe he actually wanted her.

“I believe you said, quote: I’d eat you out and make you cum until you forgot all about that ginger-haired weasel, end quote.”

He shook his head with a chuckle and began to place kisses on the crook of her knee, the other hand sliding up the other leg. “Granger, I don’t know how you do it, but you make direct quotes sound sexy.”

Hermione mewled at the sensation of his soft lips on her thighs as he made his way at a torturous pace to their juncture. His fine platinum hair made her sigh as it brushed against her sensitive skin and mingled with the little bites he soothed over with his tongue.

When she could barely take any more of his physical teasing, her pleasure building just behind her navel, she felt him tug at her mind again. She gasped and tears sprang to her eyes as Malfoy discovered her most recent memory of Ron’s betrayal. His invasion was even more intimate as he had her body and her mind open to him at once.

He’d stopped his ministrations, his chin now an inch from her sopping quim. She looked down at him, his fair hair in disarray and his eyes brimming with… was that anger or desire or both?

“Fuck, that fucking twat! How dare he go down on her after he never did for you!” Malfoy said venomously. He was upset at Ron?

Before Hermione could even process his reaction, his tongue darted out and licked her pussy from bottom to top. Her legs seized and his hands caught them before she suffocated him with their grip.

“Sweet Salazar,” Malfoy moaned. She could feel his warm breath on her wet labia. “He doesn’t know what he’s missing out on. You taste like….” His tongue took another, now more leisurely taste of her. “Felix felicis. I’ve had a drop before… Fuck!”

Hermione had a difficult time listening to him. Did he just say…? She needed more pressure, she needed his mouth on her. Just barely, she felt him enter her mind again.

“More, eh?” She could feel him smirk against the inside of her thigh. That’s when his hands seized the globes of her ass, his broad shoulders keeping her thighs at bay, he fulfilled his promise.

Malfoy latched onto her nub and Hermione saw stars, she felt fireworks in her stomach. She realized that her moans were echoing in the bedchamber. They sounded inhuman and she couldn’t stop her hips from grinding against his face. The slight, nearly imperceptible stubble on his jaw rubbed at her labia. She couldn’t get enough friction, she needed something inside her…

That’s when he rammed his tongue into her dripping entrance, his pointy nose now pressing deliciously against her clitoris. Hermione squealed as he fucked her with his tongue and gathered her juices in his mouth. From the vibration and sensations concentrating on her quim, she thought she could feel Malfoy moaning along with her.

Once she’d fallen over the brink again, he pulled away from her and pressed kisses along her hip bones and along her flat stomach. Hermione tried to recover from her orgasms that had seemed to grip her less than a minute apart. His mouth was sticky from her cum and he made her torso sticky too as he made his way up her body.

“Can I kiss you like this, Hermione? Would you like to taste yourself?” Malfoy whispered huskily against her chin.

“Yes!” she breathed. As he kissed her, she felt his hard length pressing against her hip. Hermione moaned into his mouth as she tasted herself, their tongues meeting in a frenzy. On his tongue, she recalled what he said and agreed that she did taste what she thought felix felicis would taste like… like headiness, arousal, honey and sunshine.

“Malfoy…” she moaned as he nipped at her earlobe.

“Hmmm?” Impatiently, Hermione grabbed him by his hair and wrenched his head up to look at her. His eyes had gone dark with desire, like lava now.

“Fuck. Me. Now.” She saw a new vigor return to his eyes.

He took his erection in hand and guided it to align with her slick pussy. Hermione worried for a split second that he might be too big… Certainly thicker and longer than Ron. The large head pressed into her and she saw Malfoy’s eyes flutter shut in pure bliss.

“Granger… You’re so tight, so wet. Fuck…” He went slowly, for her benefit or his, Hermione wasn’t sure, but she was glad. When he finally bottomed out, deep inside her, he hovered over her, panting.

Malfoy’s eyes opened in a state of shock when she wrapped her legs around his tight arse and forced him to move inside her. Her hips snapped at him as if to snap her fingers to pick up the pace.

Every time he’d thrust back in, she’d whisper “Fuck” until it became a chant and became her undoing. Her back arched and he captured a rosy nipple in his mouth. His thrusts came harder and faster through her orgasm. She cried out and didn’t even realize she’d screamed, “MALFOY!” as she dug her nails into his lean shoulders.

“Fuck, Granger… You almost made me come just by screaming my name,” he drawled into her ear, his breath sending goose pimples throughout her body. His hips had slowed, so they could both recover.

Hermione couldn’t form words, only incoherent sounds were escaping her lips as she basked in her fried nerve endings. She’d never come so many times in one session before. In fact, she’d only truly came once before with a man, when she was a bit tipsy with Ron after a date. That time was when she’d touched herself for him, though; when Ron had wanted her to.

When she opened her eyes, Hermione saw his melting silver ones looking at her in astonishment. She hadn’t even felt a tug that time. Perhaps because she was so open to him; after all, they were in an intimate position. His fists balled the sheets next to her head and she gasped when he pulled out of her, manhood still erect and dripping with her honey.

“Malfoy…?” He looked positively livid.

“I can’t believe he never once thought of your pleasure, Hermione!” Malfoy bellowed, now pacing, his cock still bobbing in front of him like a perverse rudder. She sat up at his mention of her first name, her spine, or rather her entire body, feeling like pudding. “How could he even say that he loved you?”

He stopped and came back to her and took her face into his hands. Hermione thought she’d cry when he pressed a kiss into her forehead. “Doesn’t he know how sexy your mind is? I never once doubted your brains, Hermione; but you’ve been incredibly wasted on that twat.”

“Say it again,” Hermione sighed. He looked puzzled for a second and then smiled.

“Hermione,” he said, kissing her nose, her cheeks and then her lips. She was sucked back into his maelstrom of desire. This time, he rolled her on top of him, his hands on her hips guiding her.

When she sank back down onto him, Hermione saw his eyes roll back into his head. It felt right, she felt whole with him inside her, stretching her and yet filling her just to the brim. She had to shift her hips and then she saw his straining face as she began to ride him.

“I don’t know how much more…” Malfoy bit his lip. “Hermione, can you perform Legilimency? On me? I need you to know… how you feel to me. Please!”

Hermione pursed her lips and nodded even though she didn’t think she could do it. “Legilimens,” she gasped as his hips canted up to meet hers. She couldn’t believe that Draco Malfoy, perhaps the best Occlumens of their generation was letting her inside his mind.

They each let out a moan as she entered his carefully walled mind palace. Hermione thought she’d been close before, but now an explosion of sensation flooded her mind from his. She could feel what her own pussy felt like, squeezing and wet around his hard girth, and it sent her spiralling. Barely catching herself with her arms before she fell on top of Malfoy. He pulled her to him so they were chest-to-chest as he took one last thrust into her contracting quim.

“Fuck!” Malfoy roared as he shot his seed inside her. Hermione didn’t think she’d catch her breath after a couple minutes, her head resting on his shoulder. He was still inside her but soft and she missed his length making her whole. He kept his arms firm around her so she couldn’t move away.

“Malfoy…?” she hesitated, tracing his collarbones with her finger.

“Don’t worry,” he sighed. “I cast a contraceptive spell.”

“That’s not what I was going to say… But I’m glad you did that. Er, I was going to ask if it was a coincidence that you saw me in the bookstore early?”

Malfoy laughed. “Oh, Hermione, you’re not the only one in the wizarding world who likes books.” He let her roll off him and to his side. She felt a loss as his flaccid member slipped out of her.

“That wasn’t my point.”

“Your point was whether or not I sought you out or followed you in. Sadly, Granger, I’m not stalking you. I didn’t have any intention of running into you.”

Hermione felt a little stab at the mention of her last name after he’d so erotically used her first name. “But you breached my mind anyway.” She tried not to sound accusatory, just stated the facts.

“I admit that I sensed that you were in a vulnerable state of mind when I saw you. Can’t we just have a normal post-coital nap like other witches and wizards?” Malfoy said with a huff.

“Ah, but you forget that we aren’t normal by any means, Malfoy. Your blood hates mine, we fought on the opposite side of the war, you’re a Slytherin and I’m a Gryffindor, I’m part of the Golden Trio and you’re a former Death Eater,” Hermione rambled on, closing her eyes.

She felt him shift and roll on his side towards her. “Yes, those are the pure, unadulterated facts, Granger. You needn’t remind me of all people. You forget that you’ve never heard my side in all of that, though.”

“That’s true, I suppose,” she agreed, turning to face him. His hair was as spiky as a hedgehog and she was sure hers was a rats’ nest. “Well?” Hermione raised an eyebrow expectantly.

“You expect me to simply spill my guts to you right now?” Malfoy said, a smirk playing at his lips as he smoothed a thumb over her hip bone. “I can’t possibly think straight with you so naked.”

She giggled and rolled her eyes. “Fine, what do you suggest then?”

“How about a date, Miss Granger?” Her jaw dropped.

“Uh, I think we did this backwards if that’s what you want,” Hermione countered.

“No,” Malfoy said thoughtfully as he lightly slapped her arse. “I think we did this in the right order. Plus, I think it will help you with your situation with that weasel as well.”

“Do I need to change for this date?” Hermione said, slipping on her dress. Examining it, she realized her outfit was quite drab and neutral.

“No, Granger, we can’t give Weasley that satisfaction of you changing to meet his standards.” He sized her up as she looked for her knickers. “Maybe we can make a few alterations, though… Oh and don’t bother looking for your dirty little thong, Miss Granger.” Malfoy winked.

“Malfoy!” She whipped his shirt at him as hard as she could.

“Hold still, witch!” He said as he tried to make her dress look a little less frumpy here at there. “Suolo,” Malfoy said, pointing his wand at her waist. The spell took in the sides of her dress to expose her small waist and therefore accentuate her ample bust and hips.

“Malfoy, you know how to sew… magically?” He frowned at her accusation.

“I’m an auror, Granger! We have to be prepared in any situation.”

She had to mercilessly tease him, though. “Had a lot of practice altering witches’ clothing, have you?”

“Only taking it off them, love.” Hermione rolled her eyes at him. “You may want to put your hair up or else you’ll look just-fucked,” he smirked. She gasped and felt her hair.

Malfoy had an ensuite bathroom, which she took advantage of its mirror. Luckily, she was able to brush it back into a bun with her fingers and secure it with a hair band. She stepped out of the bathroom as Malfoy was finished smoothing his hair back to its proper shape.

“Hmm… I may have liked the thoroughly-shagged look better,” he quipped and placed a hand on her lower back to escort her out of the room. Once they reached the front door, Malfoy stopped.

“Hermione, I want you to know that whatever happens, I won’t let anyone harm you,” he said, brushing a curl of hair away from her temple.

“You speak like we’re going into a war zone, Draco.” His eyes sharply met hers as his first name spilled from her lips. She could see a little glimmer of liquid hope or luck in his eye.

“We’ll see,” he muttered and disapparated alongside her.

They apparated in front of a pub, somewhere Hermione had never been. Judging by the other wizardkind going in and out of the door, it was a Quidditch pub.

“Welcome to ‘The Quaffle and Snitch’!” Malfoy said, their arms still linked from apparating.

“Come on, then, Granger.”

She sighed and walked in with him. Hermione had figured out why they were there. Malfoy knew Ron would be at this pub drowning his relationship woes with his Quidditch mates. A couple wizards at the bar and the surrounding tables stared at Malfoy, expressions changing from jovial to dismayed.

“Don’t you think this is a little juvenile, Malfoy?” Hermione hissed as they sat down at the furthest end of the bar.

“Hermione.” She realized that he said her first name to get her full attention. “What he did to you was despicable and petty.”

“And you don’t think this is petty?”

Malfoy gestured to the bartender and ordered them two shots. “I didn’t say that… But you’ll be even.”

“Even? That’s why you’re doing this? So I can get even with Ronald?” Hermione crossed her arms.

“Isn’t that why you slept with me in the first place?” He raised an eyebrow. Hermione frowned.

“I-I well, I suppose so… But--”

“But what? Isn’t that what you wanted? A revenge fuck?” Malfoy hissed at her and slammed his shot of firewhiskey. She took her shot as well, except she half choked on the burn of it going down her throat.

“Hermione? What are you doing here?” Her stomach dropped at the slurred voice to her left. Ron stood there gaping like a drunk git. Then, he noticed Malfoy was the one she’d been talking to. “Malfoy? What the fuck…”

It took too long for Ron’s whiskey-soaked brain to suss out their connection. By that time, Malfoy had stood up from his stool and towered a good four inches over the bulky ginger. Hermione felt like she was going to be sick.

Ron grabbed Malfoy’s shirt but realized too late that he was now standing and no longer had any leverage. Malfoy’s mouth twisted into a cruel smile, the smile Hermione recognized from being on the receiving end of it many times at Hogwarts.

“Careful, Weasley. I may steal the rest of your dignity along with your girl.” At this point, Ron’s Quidditch fans and mates had surrounded them, but no one dared to touch the tall auror with a wand in his hand.

“You fucking ferret! She would never sleep with you!” Ron snarled drunkenly and looked to Hermione for confirmation.

She didn’t confirm or deny it, just looked angrily at him as if she could curse him again without her wand. Ron released Draco’s shirt. She had no idea how to feel at this moment. Everything about it told her to run, but she was a Gryffindor and she’d already run once today from a terrible situation.

“If I may step in,” she said coldly, standing up from her stool. Whispers traveled through the spectators. “Ronald, you’re a bloody coward and you don’t deserve to even stand here at my feet.” At that, Malfoy looked amused, but she rounded back on him. “Draco, you should consider yourself lucky that Ronald here fucked up.” Hermione winked at the awed Slytherin out of the public eye. “Now if you please, I’d like to get back to our date.”

“Bossy witch,” he whispered into her ear as she took his arm to walk away. They left the pub in favor of a proper restaurant. When she saw the fancy French restaurant he was taking her, Hermione stopped in her tracks.

“I can’t go in there like this!” she gestured to her too casual dress. The sign outside said that a cocktail dress code was magically enforced.

Malfoy smirked and flicked his wand at her, transforming her dress into a glorious evening gown of blue silk and silver thread. “For the record, Granger, I don’t care what you wear as long as I get to be the one to take it off you.” She shivered at his comment.

He guided her into the restaurant, heads turning at the young couple. At the mention of the Malfoy name, they were seated immediately.

“I know how you did it, Draco,” she said lowering her menu. His molten gray eyes met hers.

Malfoy was intrigued. “Please do tell, Hermione.”

“With a little luck, liquid luck. When you mentioned you’d tasted it, I didn’t think much of it, but that’s why you were in the bookstore.” She was more amused than upset and this seemed to surprise him.

“And you don’t care that I used a potion?” Hermione shook her head.

“No, because the sentiment is the same. You may have gained me by luck, but you kept me with your kindness, Draco.” 


End file.
